Pen Pals and Picnics
by Maeve of Winter
Summary: Jordan starts receiving mysterious notes and automatically assumes someone must be pranking her. But is all what it seems? Jay/Jordan.


Jordan found the first note taped beneath her desk in Fairies 101 (a requirement for all student magic users). The tip of the envelope was just peeking out from the edge of the desk, and if she hadn't been going to sit down, she wouldn't have noticed it.

Glancing skeptically around the room and finding nothing but routine occurrences—Evie showing dress designs to a disinterested Mal, Audrey holding court with the other girls, Ben trying to convince an unimpressed Jay and Carlos of the merits holding balls—Jordan removed the envelope and found her name printed on the front in neat block letters. With both eyebrows raised, she opened the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside to reveal just one line in the same handwriting.

East Wing Relaxation Room at sunrise.

A meeting place? Jordan's pulse quickened with excitement, even as she warned herself not to get too caught up in fantasy. The note could easily be a prank or, knowing her classmates, even some sort of benign but ill-conceived scheme.

Still, though, she could entertain the idea that someone wanted to meet her to be alone together. Whoever it was must have put some time and thought into the arrangement if they wrote down the invitation and put it at her desk. They could have just texted her.

While Jordan didn't have much of an idea of who the person could be, and prevented herself from becoming disappointed by having any particular hopes, she still was flattered by the idea of someone wanting to meet with her.

However, as it turned out, she was disappointed regardless. While Jordan arrived well before sunrise, too full of anticipation to wait even as she reminded herself to be cool and calm, no one else ever arrived.

She rolled her eyes, both at herself for having unrealistic hopes and at the other person, whoever it might have been, for their immature prank. Though Jordan had never considered herself an especially vengeful person, she was fully prepared to burn them back if she ever were to discover their identity.

Angered at being stood up, prank or not, Jordan spent the entire day snarling at anyone who looked at her the wrong way, and was then left struggling to keep her temper in check when she snapped at Jane and made her cry for asking to borrow a pen. Still, she hadn't noticed any whispers or laughter following her. In fact, no one seemed to be paying her any extra attention at all, not for either entertainment or admiration. Audrey was instead showing off a new dress to all the other girls and playing coy when it came to saying where she'd bought it. Even Chad, the most likely culprit, seemed entirely disinterested in Jordan's activities. Multiple times she went back and forth on the matter, arguing with herself over the actual intentions of the note's writer.

And yet when Jordan found another note taped beneath her desk in Language of the Stars a few days later, she still convinced herself to give the author another chance. Maybe they'd gotten sick, she reasoned. Perhaps an unexpected event had taken place and they'd been invariably delayed.

Besides, Jordan knew either one of her parents would be up for this type of thing, and if they ever found out she didn't follow the note's instructions, would wonder why she wasn't. Sure, they had their different methods: her mom would keep a healthy degree of skepticism while her dad would just dive in headfirst without looking.

But, as Jordan was well aware, she wasn't like either of her parents. Whereas they were outgoing, she was more reclusive. They loved being zany, but she would rather be practical. They prided themselves on having a live audience to perform for, but when she interacted with people, she much preferred to do it from behind the filter of a camera, rather than directly. They tended to be spontaneous, and reach for the limelight whenever the opportunity arose, while Jordan prided herself on keeping a schedule and tended not to deviate.

Sometimes she couldn't ignore the sense that she didn't fit in with her own family. It certainly wasn't the worst problem in the world and didn't even rank among the problems several of her classmates had with their parents. But Jordan hated the feeling that it was her personality separating from her from her family, that her own preferences and decisions were an obstacles that needed to be overcome.

So she followed the second note's instructions and went to the waterfall fountain in the gardens, knowing full she would likely be stood up once more. The waterfalls were usually a beautiful and soothing sight, with the pools of water staggered at various level so the streams flowed from one tier to the next until reaching the pond at the bottom. And during the nighttime, the glass-like surface of the pond magnificently reflected the light from the moon and stars.

When no one showed yet again, Jordan knew she only had herself to blame. This disappointment was what she got, she supposed, for stepping outside of her comfort zone. All the more reason she shouldn't bother to try to change to be less like herself.

At the appearance of a third note beneath her desk in History of Pirates and Woodcutters class , directing her to the Front Atrium during a rainstorm, Jordan's good will was well and truly expired, and she found herself sifting through spellbooks to glean an idea or inspiration of how to uncover the author's identity. The problem with being a genie was that while she could easily change the course of events she had knowledge of, she was just as helpless as any mortal where it concerned circumstances she couldn't predict. What she would have liked to do was magic up security cameras in every one of her classrooms and film every second until she found the identity of the author, but she wouldn't be able to accomplish such without having to answer a bunch of questions. And no way did she want to explain this situation to anyone else.

For a little while, she merely seethed quietly in the room that she was obligated, despite having her lamp, to share with Ally.

Noticing her ire, her roommate looked over at her in concern more than once.

"Are you all right?" Ally finally asked. She'd been admiring a new blouse that had been left for her in their room, but she put it aside to give Jordan her full attention. "If you want to talk—"

"No thank you," Jordan replied curtly. "I'm going into my lamp for now. Text me if you need me."

With that, she vanished from the room and reappeared in her lamp, still scowling. While she appreciated Ally's willingness to lend a sympathetic ear, she didn't want to advertise her humiliation.

Her bad mood only worsened when she caught sight of the framed photo of herself and her parents hanging over her desk, and she sighed heavily. Neither her mom or her dad ever had any problems talking to friends. And probably neither of them had ever been repeatedly taunted this way. She truly was different from both of them, bearing no resemblance in either personality or appearance. If it wasn't for her magic, she would have doubted they were even her real family.

But as Jordan's gaze lingered on the photo, an idea began taking form in her mind. Appearance. Magic.

And then she had a way to finally figure out who the note writer was.

Jordan smirked to herself. "You want to play? Fine. Let's play ."

* * *

Bewitching all of her desks, Jordan had the underside of each one coated with a deep blue paint. When the writer taped the notes beneath her desk, the contact would transfer the paint to their fingers, dying their entire hands blue until Jordan was willing to use her magic change their skin back to normal. Now she would know who was pulling the jokes on her, and hopefully give them a scare in the process.

Of course, it was only after she enchanted her school desks that she began to see the various flaws in the plan. What if the writer had worn gloves all along? What if they began wearing gloves to hide their blue hands? What if the paint incriminated the wrong person?

She would deal with each issue as it arose, she eventually decided. No use worrying over events that might never happen.

As it turned out, she didn't need to wait very long.

Jordan was finishing lunch by herself in the central gardens, still too irritated by the notes to feel like socializing and joining her friends for the meal. She occupied her favorite spot, a perch on top of one of the high stone walls that was flanked closely by several trees, lending her a great amount of privacy. She could look out and watch her fellow students come and go, but no else would immediately notice her. She was close, but still a distance away, exactly where she preferred to be where other people were concerned.

A familiar figure passed beneath her wall as she watched, tapping at the screen of his phone. As Jordan idly followed his movements, with a jolt, she realized his fingers were a deep, rich shade of blue.

She'd found her prankster. And it was Jay. Son of Jafar.

Her hands curled into fist. She should have known. Thief, liar, generally dishonest—of course he wouldn't draw the line at pranking her.

With a pop, she vanished from the roof and materialized right in front of Jay, who didn't appear nearly as startled as she would have expected.

"You!" Jordan spat, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You're the one who wrote the notes!"

Of all responses she'd anticipated—denial, remorse, fear—she was unprepared for Jay's casual, if disappointed admission.

Jay sighed. "Oh. It was that obvious, huh?" He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Guess I'm not really cut out for goodness, remedial or not."

Jordan blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Those messages were a project for my Remedial Goodness class," Jay explained. "I was supposed to, um . . ." he paused momentarily as he withdrew a worn piece of paper from his vest pocket and unfolded it. " 'Perform a series of good deeds while remaining anonymous until the instructor's appointed time,' " he read aloud.

"So, for a 'good deed,' you decided to pretend to be my secret admirer?" Jordan demanded, far from pacified. "Since when is tricking people good ?"

"What's a secret admirer?" Jay asked in bewilderment.

His question was punctuated by the ringing of the school bell, signalling the end of lunch.

Disarmed by his sheer obliviousness, Jordan studied him carefully. He seemed sincere, but then, so had those notes.

"We need to talk," she decided. "But not now. I have to get to class."

"How about we meet at the balcony of the West Tower when dinner begins?" Jay suggested. "I was gonna suggest that in the next message I left for you, anyway."

"Fine," Jordan agreed reluctantly. "Just make sure you actually show up this time."

Jay's eyebrows rose. "You mean you wanted me to be with you at those other places I sent you to?"

Jordan pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off an oncoming headache, too confused at the recent turn of events to even try to make sense of them at the moment. " Goodbye , Jay. I'll see you when dinner starts, and I'd better like your explanation."

* * *

The sun was hanging low in the sky when Jordan appeared on the balcony of the West Tower. Though she momentarily scowled when she saw that Jay had not yet arrived, she was somewhat soothed as she looked around and realized the spectacular view. The spot was quite private as well, since the only way to reach it was to climb several steep flights of stairs.

Yet again, though, she found herself waiting. Just as she was about to send Jay a barrage of angry text messages, Jay vaulted over the side of the nearest tower, swinging down from a grappling hook.

"Sorry about that," he said nonchalantly. "I went the scenic route, but sometimes that takes a bit longer."

"Longer than this project you've apparently made me a part of?" Jordan inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, it's a big part of our grade," Jay informed her. "Like I said before, we're supposed to good things for a particular person without taking credit for it. The Fairy Godmother says it's so we know how good it feels to be good even when we're not getting thanked. So I decided to send you different filming locations for your webshow, like you said you wanted."

" 'Filming locations'?" Jordan repeated, her mind whirling. "So, those notes—they weren't—"

"They weren't for 'admiring you in secret,' or whatever you called it earlier," Jay said with a shrug. "But I'm good at scouting around and learning the terrain, so when I found some places I'd thought you'd like, I decided to let you know about them."

A wave of weariness washed over Jordan as she realized her anger had been totally misplaced; no one had been trying to hurt her at all, just help her.

"Guess I jumped the gun," she said aloud with a sigh. She turned to Jay. "Since we're both missing dinner—" she snapped her fingers and a picnic blanket and basket appeared on the ground before them, "—how about we both get something to eat?"

"Awesome!" Jay enthused, diving into the picnic basket and withdrawing a large turkey drumstick. "Thanks."

"No problem," Jordan replied, fishing a bunch of grapes for herself out of the basket. A thought occurred to her. "How did you know I wanted new locations for the show? I only told Ally about that."

"I overheard you telling her," Jay admitted. "I was helping Carlos with his own Remedial Goodness project. You remember how Ben lost that one antique pocket watch of his a few weeks back? The one his dad gave him for his coronation?"

"Yeah," Jordan recalled. "He was really worried, but then he found it again."

Jay nodded. "Carlos decided his project was going to be finding stuff people lost or repairing stuff that was broken. He asked me to help him search everywhere Ben might have gone, since I know so many shortcuts and can get around faster. I was looking for Ben's watch in the gardens when I overheard you and Ally talking, and that's when you gave me the idea for my project."

A hunch formed in Jordan's mind. "Speaking of Ally, someone gave her a new blouse just the other day, and Audrey has a killer new dress. Those wouldn't be part of Evie's project, would it?"

Jay grinned. "Let's just say that you're going to find a new jacket waiting for you in your room in the next day or so."

Jordan chuckled. "That's really sweet of her. What's Mal doing?"

"She's stealing the minutes from all of the council meetings Ben attends and then using her magic to solve whatever problems she can," Jay replied with a smirk. "I can appreciate her boldness."

"So do I," Jordan said, surprised to find a smile spreading across her features. She liked being with Jay, finding him unexpectedly easy to talk to. "Though that is the reason magic has been so tightly controlled around Auradon. Ben's dad and the Fairy Godmother didn't want it to be used for easy solutions. But I think it's cool of her to go ahead with it anyway."

"Yeah, those three have been doing pretty well with their assignments," Jay replied, but there was a chagrined note to his tone.

Again, Jordan found herself taken aback by her own emotions; she was filled with the urge to reassure Jay, even though she had never considered herself to at all be a comforting person.

"I think you're doing a good job, too," she volunteered.

Jay offered her a half-smile. "Thanks, but I wasn't even able to write those messages for you the right way. You thought they were a joke." He sighed. "I don't know . . . it just seems like I'm not cut out for goodness. Or Auradon, really."

Jordan didn't know how to address the "goodness" bit—it had never been a question for her. She was the daughter of Genie and Eden, and no one had ever questioned where her loyalties laid. She had none of the experiences that the Villain Kids did, who were stuck fighting to prove themselves good even though they'd already been cast out as evil and left to grow up on the Isle for most of their lives. So she concentrated on the "Auradon" part, her mind going to Jay's involvement in athletics.

"C'mon, don't be like that," she coaxed. "Look how good you are at tourney!"

"Tourney's a game," Jay pointed out. "And it doesn't say anything about me whether I'm good at it or not. But Mal is learning how to be a ruler, a good one. Carlos is all about fixing problems, whether it's finding Ben's watch or helping some stray dogs. Evie makes friends wherever she goes, and it's easy for her." His shoulders sagged. "And then there's me."

Though Jay's words sent her reeling, never having anticipated him lacking in confidence, Jordan couldn't suppress a surge of empathy for him. While insecurities were flitting through her mind as they always were, of letting some get too close, of giving ammunition for someone to mock her interests, her habits, she pushed all of that aside for the moment.

"I . . . kind of know how you feel," she began awkwardly. "And I don't really know how to fix it, but it sucks to feel like you don't fit in. Both of my parents are really outgoing and love being with others. I don't, and I always feel bad for it. I like doing my webshow, but . . ." she shrugged helplessly. "I don't being around people all the time," she finished, wincing at her lame conclusion.

However, Jay seemed slightly heartened by her response. "That's what I like about being able to scout around. I like climbing and finding different place to go. Being able to get away from it all and just stand at the top of the highest point, wherever that is, and just look down and see how much space I have to still explore. It makes me feel free, I guess."

"It's a good feeling," Jordan agreed. "You know, it was really nice of you to try to use your talents to help me out. And those spots you picked were really great." She looked out at the sky, where the sun was beginning to set. "This one is really nice, too." Feeling a rare burst of impulsiveness, she made up her mind to take a risk. "How would you like to do this again sometime? Me and you, having a picnic at one of the spots you picked out?"

Holding her breath, Jordan scrutinized Jay's expression as she spoke, her heart pounding in her chest. He looked surprised by the invitation, but not, it occurred to her as her pulse raced through her veins, unhappy or dismayed.

"I'd love to," he said, giving her a quiet smile. "Thanks, Jordan."

"No problem," Jordan replied, an enormous grin overtaking her features.

They settled into comfortable silence as they watched the sunset together, and when Jay reached out to take her hand, she sent him a fond glance and gave her fingers a squeeze.

At one point, she had longed for a genuine secret admirer. But this, Jordan decided happily, was way better.


End file.
